


Far Away.

by Someonewhosfunny



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Tattoos, batman reference, blink and you'll miss it intimacy, comforting louis, hopeless Liam, physical fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Someonewhosfunny/pseuds/Someonewhosfunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam isn’t really all there, but Louis wouldn’t have it any other way.<br/>Alternatively…<br/>The five times Liam loses himself and the one time he doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Away.

**Author's Note:**

> Lilo is basically my OTP, so I'm so glad this idea came to me. It's been a work in progress for a while and I'm so happy I can say it's finally finished! Massive thank you to my friends for listening to me freak out about this for weeks! I'm just a really big fan of angsty Lilo. Enjoy and let me know what you think! Feeback means a lot! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not affiliated with One Direction.

I.

“I can’t be this perfect person you expect me to be! I just can’t do it! Please… just go, Lou.”

“Li, I’m not asking you to be per-”

“Just give me space. Please,” Liam begged.

Liam was torn between feeling numb and wanting to collapse into tears. He felt like tossing his hands into the air, truly done. Air pumped in and out of his lungs shallowly, quickly making him dizzy. His brown eyes began to blur around the corners.

He felt so heavy with thick emotion. He needed room to breathe. Liam was suffocating, and he knew if Louis stayed any longer, things would get worse. Every word pouring from Louis’ mouth was pushing him closer to the meltdown that was threatening to erupt. He didn’t want to lose it with him here.

Against his better judgment, Louis backed away. His movements were slow and deliberate, as not to startle Liam. The boy in front of him looked so close to falling apart. Louis wouldn’t usually leave Liam like this, but he knew that his presence would make everything harder. He would agree to Liam’s request, but would be sure to send Niall over immediately to make sure Liam wasn’t doing anything crazy.

“Okay, Li. I’m going. Call me later.”

Louis’ typically loud and animated voice was careful. His hands were held out, reassuring the anxiety ridden boy as he backed to the door, grabbing his jacket off the hook.

“I love you.”

When the heavy wood door clicked closed, Liam began to panic. His mind was spinning nervously, letting bad thoughts in. He just really wanted to cry.  

Every detail of the flat was grabbing his attention. The beanie on the chair, red wool that belonged to Lou. The empty cups on the coffee table. The Vans on the floor. Liam had so much to fix and no time to do it. No time to put away Louis’ shoes or dirty dishes. No time to make himself sane.

Desperately, he reached for one of the spoons lying on the table. Louis always left them out, even though Liam hated them. He hated them with all of the bitter anger he contained as if _spoons_ were the reason Liam’s life was flying out of control. He snatched the metal utensil and wailed it across the room. The flat was eerily silent until the spoon made contact with a picture hanging on the wall, sending glass flying through the air as the frame shattered, along with Liam’s control.

He collapses into tears, irrationally and hysterically. Hot liquid burned into his hands, burying his face as his body shook with hiccups. His cries were loud and throaty, escaping without any resistance. Solid legs went weak and he sunk to the floor, folding into himself. He wished he could just disappear.

Liam was so lost in himself that he didn’t hear the door open or the steady sound of Niall’s footsteps as he walked towards him. He didn’t acknowledge the blonde until he was wrapping his arms around Liam’s broken form.

“Shhh. S’okay, mate. Calm down. What happened?”

Niall’s calloused hands rubbed gentle circles onto the expansive plane of Liam’s back. He buried his face into the crook of Liam’s neck, which comforted him a bit. His shoulders shook erratically and the crying boy coughed as he tried to form words.

“Sh. It’s fine. It’s okay, Li.”

“I- I broke the frame.”

“Where?”

“Be- behind you.”

Niall turned to survey the damage. The wooden frame work was split in two pieces and glass lay broken in shards around it. The only piece unharmed was the photograph, one of Liam and Louis bent over a piano. Niall handed it over to Liam wordlessly.

Liam took one look at the photo and began to cry harder. In the shot, he was glancing down at the keys of the piano, gentle smile toying on his lips as he tried to play a tune. Louis was beaming down at Liam in fascination and adoration, pink lips revealing perfect white teeth. His sapphire eyes sparkled, skin crinkling around the corners in Liam’s favorite way, the same way that his own eyes crinkled sometimes. Harry had taken the picture a few months ago, a happy time for both of them, and the couple couldn’t resist hanging up the pleasant reminder.  

Louis used to be so happy, until Liam dimmed the light from his eyes. He was afraid his depression would eventually make Louis feel as dead as he sometimes did. Liam never wanted to affect Louis so much. The older boy loved him, but Liam was draining the life from him because of it. Liam hated himself for doing that, corrupting the incomputable.

If Liam’s life was a Batman movie (the Dark Knight was one of his and Louis’ favorites), Louis would be Harvey Dent, Gotham’s white knight, the person everyone was counting on. It was his job to fight the bad guys, because Batman wasn’t exactly holding it all together. Liam’s depression, tortuous and unforgiving, was the Joker, the obstacle keeping him from fixing himself. In his farfetched world, Liam would be Batman: broken and masked. Struggling to fight a losing battle, on his last whim, desperately needing Louis to save him, but knowing only he himself could slay his monsters.

Niall stayed with Liam as he cried, holding him tightly. The Irish boy mumbled reassurances until his voice had gone hoarse. When Liam crashed from physical and mental exhaustion, Niall carried the much larger and stockier body to his bedroom. As Liam slept, Niall sat on the living room couch as the telly played softly, waiting for Louis to return home.

Hours later, Liam woke up in his bed, groggy and disoriented. His head throbbed from crying and he was drenched in sweat. The blinds were pulled, making it impossible for Liam to determine the time of day. He threw a pillow over his head.

Of course Liam heard the door creak open. He heard the sound of footsteps pad across his floor. A cup was placed on his nightstand with a _clink_ , but Liam stayed buried. When the door shut, he glanced up.

A cup of steaming tea sat on a saucer, making him acutely aware of his dry throat. A sleepy hand reached for the china, but landed on smooth paper instead, feeling the indentations of words with his thumb. His fingers clutched the small note and brought it to his face to read Louis’ familiar scrawl.

_Why do we fall, Master Payne? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up._

_Lou xxxx_

Tears prickled at his eyes as he fell back into bed. He did nothing to deserve a guy like Louis, someone funny and caring and just so thoughtful. He thanked every power he believed in that he had him in his life. Louis was the one that kept him going. When days felt unlivable and Liam felt himself literally fading away, Louis always brought him back, making him smile or laugh for at least a few minutes. He loved how Louis would do any stupid thing to make Liam happy. Liam just loved _him_ , with all the emotion he could muster, and as Thomas Wolfe said, love was the ultimate expression of the will to live.

 

II.

It really wasn’t fair, Liam thought, that Louis was burdened by someone like him. Louis was optimistic and genuine. The boy radiated energy. It was impossible not to love his friendly, outgoing nature. Liam never understood what someone like Lou saw in him. He was moody and difficult. Some mornings he woke up not wanting to see anyone. Then Louis would come bounding over to him with his toothy grin and bright eyes. Liam always brushed him off with cold silence, his dead eyes unwavering as he tried to muster a grin. He would pretend not to notice when Louis’ beautiful face dropped the slightest bit, before he covered it up with another attempt to get Liam to smile. All Lou wanted was to see him smile.

Liam always felt guilty for these heartless exchanges late at night when he was pressing hot kisses into the nap of the smaller boy’s neck, nose burrowing into his warmth.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tears blended into the sheets and hands clung to familiar bodies. Legs tangled and hooked around each other and the two seemed to become one, breathing and thriving off of one another. Desperation hung in the air of the tiny bedroom. Settled in the darkness, tucked into the comfort of Louis’ presence, was the only place Liam felt he could breathe properly. He tossed his reservations to the side and let himself love the boy like he deserved. Liam gave every piece of himself away in the soft haze of night, melting into Lou’s arms and letting him see everything.

Every night Liam became Louis’, but every morning he went back into his box, enclosed by his walls. Every morning Lou lost the advancements he’d made the night before as Liam placed distance between himself and the world. Mornings were always hard for them.

The smell of toast tickled Liam’s nose as he drifted back into consciousness. In the past, he’d been worried about the safety of the kitchen with Lou’s cooking, but his lethargy won over his concern. He stayed in bed for another ten minutes before venturing down stairs.

“Hey Li, I made toast!”

Louis beamed as if that was the greatest accomplishment in the entire world. It was so pitiful, the way that Lou put all of his energy into making Liam happy, when it was obvious that Liam could never _be_ happy. There was no reason; just something in Liam’s brain that was wired the wrong way. A person like Liam was never meant to experience happiness.   

“Thanks, Lou.”

His rugged, chapped lips pressed tenderly to the smoothness of Louis’ forehead, trying to convey the love he couldn’t quite voice. The gesture had the desired effect, eliciting a grin from the other boy. His delicate hands grabbed a plate and placed it on the table.

“Toast!”

Liam spread a glob of butter across the crunchy, nearly burnt bread before stuffing half the slice in his mouth.

“S’good Lou,” he praised through a mouthful.

The bright eyed boy was beaming again, proud that he had done _something_ right. Liam hated that he was always trying so hard to please him. He couldn’t fix all of Liam’s problems, but Louis liked to do little things. It made him feel a bit less powerless.

 “I’ve put the kettle on. Would you like a cup?

Liam only nodded as Lou crossed the room. His eyes watched as Louis maneuvered the kitchen. The sound of water boiling filled the silence. Two cups and saucers were placed on the counter with neatness no one else would expect from Louis. He was always like this around Liam, though, trying so hard to be the one thing in the nineteen year old’s life that wasn’t spiraling out of control.

Liam continued to watch as Lou prepared the tea, placing sugar and milk on the counter, knowing Liam liked his tea fully dressed, despite his incessant claims that it ruined the sanctity of the tea.

All preparations were going smoothly until he reached for the tea bags. Louis was up on his toes, lithe body stretching as his shirt shifted up to reveal a thin strip of skin. Liam almost chuckled as he stood to his boyfriend’s aid. One of his strong hands pressed to the small of Lou’s back while the other closed around the tin. Placing it on the counter, a half smile graced his face. The expression was genuine, but still resembled a grimace.

Louis’ heart clenched as he pressed his lips to Liam’s, his mouth gentle and tentative, afraid to shatter him. When he pulled away, Liam could see the sadness in his eyes. The clear blue was tainted by weary red as it bled throughout the iris. It was the mark of never ending days and nonexistent nights cause by the grief of loving Liam.

“I’m sorry,” he explained lamely, knowing it wouldn’t help anything. It never did. It was a pathetic mantra, the only phrase that seemed to pass his lips these days.

“What for?” Lou smiled, trying to combat the heavy feeling hanging in the air.

“For always leaving.”

Louis poured steaming water into the cups and meticulously submerged the tea bags before turning his attention back to Liam.

“You always come back, though. Every single night.”

Louis stirred in milk and sugar to Liam’s cup, knowing the perfect proportions by heart.

It completely baffled Liam how Lou could love him so completely, could even tolerate him. Liam gave him nothing, but he continued to treat him like he was the most precious thing in his world. All Louis wanted in return was love, and Liam could barely provide him that.

He _did_ love Louis, more than he felt capable of sometimes. It was just so difficult for him to express. It wasn’t fair that Lou gave so much and received so little in return.

“Here, love!”

Louis offered Liam the cup, which he accepted graciously. As Liam took a sip, Lou could see that his eyes were again distracted, far away. He wished that he could crack Liam’s head open every once in a while and finally see the thoughts that his boyfriend would never say. Louis had come to expect these breakfast exchanges, but a part of him always hoped that the Liam from the bedroom would come down in the morning. Even so, the nights were enough for him. Loving Liam unconditionally was enough for him.

The pair gravitated to the couch in the living room, balancing saucers in their hands. Louis folded himself in the corner seat, knees tuck under his chin. His tea was perched precariously on the arm of the furniture. Liam took the seat next to him, his feet planted squarely on the ground.  Where Liam was broad and stiff, Louis was toned and agile. Liam was a bit awkward, while Louis oozed confidence through every pore. The contrast between the two was almost comical to Liam. Louis was everything good in the world and Liam was nothing.

“Why do you love me?”

“What’s not to love?” Louis replied lightheartedly, before meeting Liam’s eyes.

When he saw the dissatisfaction in his boyfriend’s eyes, he continued, letting his voice drop to a gentler tone.

“I love you for everything, Liam. There is no part of you I don’t love.”

“But I’m fussy and mopey and you could do so much better, Lou! So why me? Why not someone who can love you better? Someone fun, maybe! Someone who won’t feel so bloody awful all the time because he can’t give you half of what you give him.”

“You give me everything I need, Li. What don’t you understand? You’re kindhearted and silly. You’re loving and smart.” He backtracked when Liam rolled his eyes. “Well maybe not book smart, but just intelligent in general. You’re responsible,” he said drawing out the word. “You’re interesting and fun. You’re a mystery, Liam Payne, and I love every inch of you from your big feet to your fuzzy peach hair. I like that I can talk to you about everything, and I love that sometimes you talk back.”

“But I’m so distant…”

“I don’t care. Every night you let me see a piece of you that I’ve never seen before and that you’ve never shown anyone else. You give me so much of yourself, even though it’s hard for you, and I’m grateful, Liam. I really am. I’m so lucky.”

“How can you say that when you spend your entire life taking care of me? It’s pathetic! Don’t you have higher expectations for your life’s purpose?”

“My only purpose in life is to love, Liam Payne. And I achieve that when I’m with you,” he drawled dramatically in a sickly sweet voice.

Liam shot him a look, noticing the smile creeping onto Lou’s face as he restrained his laughter.

“You’re an idiot.”

Lou could barely keep a straight face at the comment, before laugher fell from his lips. Louis’ laugh was one of the most joyful things in Liam’s life. No matter how much he felt like he wanted to disappear, Louis always brought him back. He didn’t just want to exist _;_ he wanted to be _alive_ with Louis.

“You do it to me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Liam Payne.”   

 

III.

The worst part for Liam was feeling so stoic, so detached, even while surrounded by a group of friends. They were all laughing and smiling as he stared off blankly. His mind was empty. No thoughts rushed through his head and he was barely aware of the things happening around him.

“Hey Li!”

Lou collapsed onto the couch, throwing an arm over the silent boy. He waited expectantly for Liam’s eyes to fill with life, but they never did.

“Hey Lou.”

His far away eyes stayed trained ahead missing the way that Louis’ smile dimmed.

“Why don’t you play next? Put Nialler in his place. He’s getting cocky.”

Liam glanced across the room. Harry and Niall were slouched in bean bag chairs, beers standing on the floor a safe distance away. Despite his haze, Liam clearly noticed how Harry’s eyes narrowed in concentration, his body angled forward in determination. His large hands were cumbersome around the controller and frustrated noises emitted periodically from the back of his throat.

“Come on, Haz! Are you even trying?”

Harry shot the blonde boy a look that caused Niall’s laugh to echo through the room, loud and obnoxious.

Niall was the definition of carefree as he skillfully defeated Harry in another round of FIFA. His slim body laid back in his seat comfortably, with his knees bent and feet planted on the ground. His blue eyes sparkled in amusement, taking a swig of his beer, before letting another hearty laugh shake through him.

“I win!”

“Shut up,” Harry growled, full lips beginning to pout.

As the two boys began to banter, Liam let his gaze fall back onto the lamp next to where Zayn was watching the exchange fondly. The lamp was safe, neutral. Liam could just stare and let himself float away.

“You should play,” Louis broke through. “You’re much better than these lads… and maybe even me…”

“Maybe later.”

Liam’s voice was tired. His eyes never glanced Lou’s way. It was like he wasn’t even there. Louis’ palms began to itch as his movements became fidgety. He was losing Liam; he needed to bring him back.

“Oh come on! You can have the next game! No one will object, except maybe Niall, but that’s only because he knows how good you are. Right lads? Let Liam play a round!”

“Lou I don’t want-”

“Don’t be silly, you love FIFA!” Louis grabbed Liam by the hand and tried to yank him up. “Come on! It’ll be fun!”

“Stop pulling me, Lou! I don’t wanna play some stupid game.”

The other three boys had their full attention on the fighting couple. Lou let his eyes drop to the floor and he sunk back into the couch cushions.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Well don’t. Maybe I’d be in a better mood if you’d stop breathing down my neck for two seconds!”

The room filled with silence. All eyes watched Lou wearily. The outspoken young man was not one to tolerate any nastiness thrown his way. He was usually armed with a swift retort that put the offender in their place.  Uncharacteristically, he didn’t fire back an impertinent comment.

Louis closed off all of his emotion in a way that made Liam sick to his stomach. His lips dropped into a line, calculating. Louis was never planned, never careful. He was spontaneous and quick on his feet. He was impulsive. That was one of the things Liam loved most about him.

But the boy Liam loved didn’t seem to be there anymore. Lou stayed quiet way past the time he usually would’ve gone without comment. His eyes were dark. The silence hung heavily. Liam wanted to throw up.

“Fine.”

No one moved. No one even said a word. They just stared, watched. Before someone else could open their mouth, Louis continued.

“Anyone want a cup of tea, yeah? I’ll put the kettle on.”

His words were light, portraying the façade of indifference. He hurried out of the room, not expecting any form of response. Liam tugged at the roots of his short hair in frustration. Zayn was the first person to muster up the courage to speak.

“You treat him like shit, mate.”

“Don’t lecture me, Zayn. I know,” Liam snapped.

“All he wants to do is help you, and you go and make him upset.”

Liam’s frustration and self-hatred rose. “I’m sorry!”

Zayn continued to talk. “Why don’t you apologize to _him_? You know how he gets when he’s been shouted at.”

“Stop it!”

“Listen to me...”

Zayn rested a hand on Liam’s shoulder. The slight contact set the boy off like a bomb. He swiftly shrugged out of his friends grip and pushed hard against his chest.

“Don’t touch me.”

Zayn stumbled back a bit, taken off guard.

“Feel like a big man, Liam. Gonna push this all away and not deal with it?”

Liam shoved Zayn again, big and tall and menacing compared to the slimmer boy. The anger in his eyes was deadly, but Zayn wasn’t backing down.

“Don’t you realize that this has nothing to do with Louis? Take some of the blame for once, mate! He’s trying so hard, but you keep shutting him out. He loves you-”

“Shut _up_!”

Liam’s fist swung, connecting solidly with the fragile angle of Zayn’s jaw. When the other boy recoiled, his hand was cradling the sore area.

“You wanna hit me? Fine. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m not your enemy, Liam. Neither is Lou.”

Liam knew this. He wasn’t a total idiot. Of course it wasn’t Lou, or Zayn. Or even himself. Depression was his enemy, but he wasn’t quite ready to fight that yet. So he hit Zayn again.

When he saw Zayn stumble back, he registered that Niall was trying to hold him back, but the shorter boy was struggling to contain Liam’s aggression. Without thinking, Liam threw an elbow, nailing his best mate square in the face. Niall’s hands dropped from Liam as they rushed to stop the blood that was already flowing from his nose. Liam’s head whipped around to see the damage, halting in dismay at the sight.

Louis was running from the kitchen, making his way straight to Niall. He rested his delicate hands on the Irish boy’s shoulders, trying to get a look at the wound. He mumbled some words that Liam couldn’t hear, before walking back to the kitchen, probably for the first aid kit. Liam pretended not to notice when Lou glanced his way, pure eyes clouded with fear in a way that made him hate every single piece of himself.

IV.

“You’re so distant. It scares me sometimes,” Louis said suddenly, placing his teacup on the counter.  

Louis’ voice was as small as Liam’s ever heard it. His throat went dry as he tried to force words to form a reply. When nothing came out, Louis continued.

“I don’t wanna come home one day and see you… lying in a pool of… of…”

The older boy couldn’t stop his tears, despite his efforts to keep it together. He had been strong for far too long, strong enough for the both of them, but now he was breaking too. He hiccupped through his sobs, unable to finish his statement. Liam wanted to hug him, to comfort him, but he stood stiffly, watching the love of his life fall apart.

“I’m not – I… I wouldn’t,” Liam rambled quickly. “I won’t.”

“I just don’t know what to expect from you.”

“I’m getting better. You-you’re helping me.”

“What if I’m not enough?”

Everything about Louis screamed of desperation. His usually clear and peaceful eyes went wide and frazzled. The deep lines by his eyes were creased in worry, rather than euphoria. Droplets clung to his eye lashes, distracting Liam far more than they should. Louis was a beautiful disaster.

“You… love me, Lou. That’s… enough.”

Liam stood awkwardly, simplicity radiating off of him. Louis found it unbelievable that some as complex as Liam managed to act so naïve sometimes. Liam Payne truly was an enigma.

Louis stepped forward to throw his arms around Liam’s broad waist, initiating their contact. As soon as he did, Liam’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close. Lou had his nose buried into Liam’s collar bone and Liam’s face was buried into Louis’ messy hair. They fit together, like they belong like that, in spite of everything.

He loved Liam. He loved him enough that it would normally scare him off. But of course it didn’t. He was Liam, for god’s sake. Liam. With his kind eyes and easy smile, his protectiveness and parent-like concern. There wasn’t one thing that didn’t captivate Louis.

It was just scary sometimes, knowing how much Liam relied on him. Louis was afraid that one slipup, one wrong move, would cause a massive setback for Liam. He was terrified that one day not even he would be able to pull Liam out of his own head.

But Louis loves Liam. So he’ll do whatever it takes to make their unconventional love work somehow.

V.

Numbness fogged the usual clarity of his mind, blocking his sinuses with a heavy dread. His eyes were nearly black, any indication of life long gone. If someone looked at him closely, they would see the distinct brewing of desperation within the nineteen year old.

The darkness of his mood engulfed him like he was sinking in the black ocean. He was detached from everything. His ears were blocked, all sounds faint and distorted. The silence was calm, peaceful almost. He was nearly resigned in his despair.

It was easier to keep up the act when he didn’t need to see anyone. He was shit at dealing with his emotions. He used to be better. Talking wasn’t always hard. It seemed like a good option, until one day he realized he wanted to stop speaking altogether. The thoughts were weaved into the fibers of his mind, and he decided it wasn’t worth extracting them.

He was just so tired. Too tired to talk. Too tired to even think. He just wanted to shut down his brain so that he wouldn’t have to feel anything. He would be completely numb. He would just float away into nothing. He could disappear, and maybe he wanted to.

That was why Liam came here to his parent’s house. It was pathetic, really, escaping to his mum and dad’s. He was nineteen years old, but he still found comfort in his family. With everything crazy going on in his head, he needed them.

“Stay away as long as you need, but please come home soon.”

The sound of Louis’ voice rang through his ears. He missed the boy like crazy, but he would have to suffer for a bit longer. He needed to stay away. He couldn’t go back yet; it wasn’t time. Liam still needed to do a lot of thinking.

His parents had him seeing a therapist three times a week. It was supposed to help him if he was angry, or sad, or experiencing a low like this. Only, he didn’t remember anything that he was supposed to be doing, so he locked himself in his room, consumed by his mood.

The only thing that interrupted his sulking was a knock on the door. Liam was silent, before the person knocked again.

“Just leave me here to die,” he moaned dramatically; theatrics being something he’d picked up from Louis.

“I have a delivery,” his mother replied, voice gentle, but pained.

Guilt consumed Liam, making stupid irrational tears threaten to appear. He swallowed thickly, trying to get himself together for her.

“Sorry mum. Come in.”

His mother’s face was stricken with worry. Liam was just so apathetic. He never left his bed, barely had the motivation to shower or eat. Her son seemed to have lost all will. She just wanted him to get better. Liam needed to get out, go grocery shopping, play with Brit, live a life. Once he was functioning, she would gladly send him back to London. But until he showed improvement, he was staying here.

“You have a package,” she explained, placing a box on his bed.

Liam pulled himself into a sitting position and examined the package. His mum had taken the liberty of cutting the box open, probably not trusting him with scissors, not that he was that far gone. Other than that, it seemed untouched. The box was relatively big, and Liam thought offhandedly how much it had cost to ship.

A nudge from his mum prompted him to look inside. The first thing that caught his eye was a white card. He slowly opened it, recognizing the handwriting immediately.

_Hey Li, Missing you like crazy and I thought I’d give you something so you don’t forget all about me! You haven’t forgotten about me, have you? Love you loads! Louis xxx_

Liam smiled as he read the card, despite his mood. It was incredible how the thought of Louis could make him so emotional. He didn’t have the words to describe how his boyfriend made him feel. He wanted to cry or laugh or scream his love all at the same time.

 Liam could tell his mother was getting curious so he pulled out all of the wrapping paper and pulled out the gift, a box of tea. Not just any box of tea. It was a personalized box of Yorkshire Tea, Louis’ absolute favorite, with “Liam’s Tea” printed on the box. The set was completed with a matching mug.

Again, Liam felt himself get stupidly emotional. Louis went through the trouble of personalizing tea, a weird obsession of Lou’s, but a comfort to Liam nonetheless. Whenever things were going wrong, Louis would make a cup of tea. He seemed to believe it fixed all aliments. Liam couldn’t help but let out a teary chuckle. Louis was trying so hard to fix him.

“It’s the tea Louis always makes when I’m home,” Liam explained to his mother.

“That’s nice,” she replied earnestly, taking a seat on Liam’s bed.

“Yeah, it really is.”

And it was. The gesture was so thoughtful and romantic and utterly _Louis_ that it made Liam’s heart fill with longing that he was trying to swallow bravely.

Karen looked at her son intently. He wasn’t always so difficult to read, so quiet and calculating. He used to smile and laugh; he seemed like a normal young boy. There was always that dullness, though. The dim in his eyes that showed her that he wasn’t what he appeared to be on the surface. As he aged, he started to lose the façade, unhappiness becoming uncontainable. It saddened her that he was feeling this way.

But she was so grateful he had Lou. Even when he was feeling his darkest, wanting to cut everyone out of his life, Louis found a way to stay, a way to break Liam’s walls down when no one else could. Karen would always be grateful to him, for saving her boy when he was so unreachable. For loving him with the fervor that Liam deserved.

“You’re so lucky to have him, Li.”

“I know.”

“But you know, love, he’s really lucky to have you, too.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Liam’s eyes were cast down.

“I make everything so hard. I don’t even know why he’s with me. I’m not as wonderful as he thinks I am.”

“Well to me, and evidently Louis, you are.”

Karen placed a reassuring hand on her son’s shoulder before pushing herself off the bed. She turned to walk out, but lingered in the doorway.

“It’ll be okay, Liam.”

Liam tried to muster a smile as his mum walked out the door. He really couldn’t wait to go back home to Louis. This gave him the push he needed to keep going.

VI.

A month later, Liam was walking through the door to his and Louis’ flat.  His keys jingled as he turned the lock. A leather bag was slung over his shoulder, the rest of his possessions in the car. He would retrieve them later, but right now, he just needed to see Louis.

When Lou heard the door click, he turned around in confusion. The hand that was stirring his tea froze as he locked eyes with Liam. He was a bit bulkier than when he left, looking fit and healthy. His skin was glowing, a drastic change from the sallow, papery quality Lou had become accustomed to. The most obvious difference was his eyes. They were sparkling, rich brown smooth and endless with flakes of gold. The smile on his face hit Louis hard in the chest. Liam was home.

Liam tossed his bag onto the couch, watching the realization flicker on Louis face. He chuckled, a nostalgic sound that he hadn’t heard in a while.

Louis launched himself at his boyfriend, arms wrapping tightly around his waist when he made contact, face pressed to the soft cotton of Liam’s burgundy tee shirt. Liam smelled like cinnamon and leather. Louis never wanted to let him go.

“You’re back,” he breathed.

“I’m home,” Liam corrected.

He _was_ home. Louis was his home, his comfort. He was like a sailor. No matter how many times he drifted away, Louis was the place he always returned to.

“I love you.”

Liam’s arms were wrapped around Louis just as tightly as his were around him. He felt a piece of himself slip back into place when Louis was tucked into him. It had been so long since the two of them were like this, and that fact wasn’t lost on either of them. The distance made them appreciate each other so much more, in a way that they never could have realized had they not had the separation. Now that they were reunited, they couldn’t get enough of each other.

The embrace was broken (by whom, neither could recall) and lips found each other, slotting exactly the way they remembered. Hands traced familiar lines, falling easily into their customary pattern.

Liam caressed the highlight of Louis’ cheek as the boy’s warm fingers gripped his waist, burning prints into his skin. Their kiss was needy, but slow. They weren’t rushing; they just couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. Of their scent. Of their touch. Of their taste. They wanted to breathe each other in and lose themselves in the collaboration of their love. They didn’t want to be two half; they wanted to be one whole.

Louis pulled away, quick feet carrying him as he ran towards the bedroom, giggling in pure euphoria. His eyes were squinty with glee as he waited for Liam to chase him. He did. Liam followed Lou’s retreating figure, running faster because of his stronger, longer legs. He caught Louis just as he crossed the doorway to their room, seizing a kiss as his hands slid up the fabric of his shirt to feel his velvety skin. His fingers tingled as he smiled into the kiss. Louis’ arms locked around Liam’s neck, pulling him flush to his chest. He couldn’t be close enough to Liam.

The unmade bed was worn and inviting. Eventually, the two boys fell into the fluffy duvet, kicking off shoes before making themselves comfortable. Louis was lying on his back with Liam kneeling over him, swollen lips kissing his tender neck, tickling the other boy with his stubble. Louis’ fingers treaded through Liam’s hair. It was growing out, a bit longer than it had been before. Louis could feel the soft strands starting to curl with their length.

Large hands slipped under fabric again and peeled the grey shirt off of Louis. When the shirt was pushed over his head, Liam gasped, noticing the black ink on the inside of Louis’ arm.

“What’s this?” Liam breathed in a tone that was colored with awe.

“I got it for you.”

Liam’s eyes filled as the two words beamed back at him. _Far away_.

“Liam, I can’t explain to you how much you mean, but I hope this can a little. It’s kind of simple, I know, and I don’t want it to make you feel weird. I just really love you and I wanted to… Christ… I wanted to try and show you how important you are. I’m not so good with words, but-”

Warm lips stopped his flustered ramblings. Louis could feel wetness on his cheeks, but he wasn’t sure whose it was. It didn’t matter. There was no more Liam or Louis. They were together, one. What’s his was Liam’s and what’s Liam’s was his. They were puzzle pieces, matching socks, lock and key, every cliché in the book. They were partners in crime and partners in sentiment. They were penguins, mates for life.

The feel of Liam’s lips vanished, but quickly returned in a different place. His lips were trailing kisses down his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder, his arm. Each kiss imprinted love across Louis’ skin. When he reached the permanent ink, he kissed more gently, almost feather light. Next to the bold type, he began to suck a mark. Louis’ hands roamed Liam’s skin, rubbing comforting patterns. Liam’s lips drew color to the skin until he was sure his love has manifested into a bright splotch of passion.

“I love you, Lou. I just… love you _so_ much. I know I’m distant sometimes, but not anymore. Louis, if I’m going far away, you’re coming with me.”

With every bit of certainty, Liam let himself surrender to Louis. He let every wall he’s ever built crumble. He let his fears and thoughts and demons loose and he fell without hesitation into Lou’s love. His lips sealed his promise with a kiss. Liam was surrendering himself to be Louis’ unconditionally.

And when the sun streamed through the kitchen window, throwing light across the two cups set for morning tea, Liam didn’t let himself slip back into the darkness.

“Good morning, love.”

“Good morning, Li. Sleep well?”

“Actually, I did.”   


End file.
